


Welcome to the Music (private dancer mix)

by Rana Eros (ranalore)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, dj!otabek, toppy!Yuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 17:11:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17943791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ranalore/pseuds/Rana%20Eros
Summary: Otabek doesn't skate to his own music.  Yuri wants to know why.





	Welcome to the Music (private dancer mix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bonibaru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonibaru/gifts).



> Look, ma, porn! And a story over a thousand words for the first time in...five years? *checks AO3* Oh, four, not quite as terrible as I thought. Still. Enthusiastically cheered on and betaed by Eliza. Written for Boni, because I promised.

Otabek skates to classical music, wearing costumes inspired by historical and traditional dress, with clean lines that showcase his powerful, expressive style. It's a contrast to the reticent bad boy image he's acquired off the ice. Yuri knows all about the difference between what people see when you skate, and what they think they know about the person behind the program; Nikiforov stressed the advantages of exploiting that difference. Still, Otabek's got a gift for mixing numbers that make an audience come alive--he's done three of them for Yuri now--and Yuri doesn't understand why he wouldn't use that for himself.

When he asks, Otabek shrugs. "I started DJing as stress relief when skating felt harder. I want to keep the music separate, in case skating feels hard again."

"What about mixing for me?" There's a part of Yuri that would like to pretend it's weird to care so much about how someone else feels who isn't Dedushka, but the veneer of that bit of self-deception started cracking when he agreed to help Katsudon with his quad salchow. It was probably necessary to lead him to Otabek, but he'll admit that on pain of defeat by JJ. 

Otabek refocuses his attention by giving him that slow-curling smile, the one that makes Yuri's whole body tingle with awareness of Otabek's proximity. Nobody else gets that smile. Yuri's watched for it. Otabek hooks Yuri in with the heel of his right foot behind Yuri's calf, and not even Lilia can get away with moving Yuri around the way he lets Otabek. Once Yuri's close enough, Otabek wraps a stabilizing arm around his waist and pulls him down until he's straddling Otabek's thighs. That's when Otabek murmurs, "Mixing for you is fun, Yurotchka. I like watching you move to my beat."

Yuri's breath trembles in his throat, but what he thinks is, _Oh, really_. He'd put both hands on Otabek's shoulders to steady himself when Otabek drew him down; now he drops one to the fly of Otabek's jeans as he leans in to nip at Otabek's mouth and ask, "How do you feel about moving to mine?"

"Depends." Otabek pushes up into Yuri's kiss and Yuri's touch, huffs out an amused sound when Yuri shoves him down. He slips his fingers inside Yuri's waistband, brushes them light and maddening over the small of Yuri's back. Yuri arches, just a little, before he can stop himself. "Are you going to move with me?"

"Stop distracting me," Yuri says far too breathlessly for his own liking, then gives Otabek's waistband a tug to get them both refocused, "and maybe we'll find out."

Otabek does that amused not-laugh again, but keeps his hand still while Yuri unbuttons his jeans, pulls down the zipper, frees him from his sensible, gray--this guy, and yet Yuri finds the very understatement sexy--boxer briefs. They both hiss at the first touch of Yuri's fingers on sensitive flesh, and the first stroke has Otabek's hand tightening on Yuri's back, but he doesn't follow through by pulling Yuri closer or going for Yuri's fly. He's apparently content to let this be Yuri's show. Yuri closes his fist and gives a few tugs, just to be sure; all Otabek does is moan and shift restlessly in his grip.

Yuri thinks that deserves a reward, not that he needs the excuse to lean down and lick into Otabek's open mouth, and feel like he's burning up between the heat he finds there and the warmth of Otabek's dick in his hand. He strokes it again, and he's not sure which of them groans into the kiss, but his hips rock forward involuntarily. If he doesn't want to make a mess of these jeans, he'd better get them out of the way now. He pulls back just enough to determine they're too tight to tug down in his current position.

"Yura--" Otabek begins to protest as Yuri stands up; the protest dies when Yuri strips, impatiently dropping jeans and boxers to the floor, before falling back into Otabek's lap. Yuri holds his hand up to Otabek's mouth, and Otabek's eyes hold his, dark and hot, while Otabek licks his palm, then angles to lick up his index and middle fingers, before sucking lightly on the tips. Yuri pulls his hand away, replaces it with his mouth, and they gasp against each other as Yuri wraps long fingers around both of their cocks. 

He sets a rhythm of twisting strokes, squeezing just under the flare of the tip, like they both like, before pulling almost too roughly back down. Otabek strokes his right hip and left thigh in sync with his hand job, but doesn't even try to control their kisses. Yuri grips the nape of Otabek's neck, tilts his head back to lick deeper inside. Otabek opens wide for him, follows where he leads, and it makes Yuri want to make it so good for Otabek. It makes him want to make it the best.

"Tell me what you want," he says, finally letting Otabek up for air. He's still working them both, and Otabek is flushed and panting, shaking beneath him, so he thinks Otabek's close. Still. "What else do you want?"

Otabek slowly blinks open his eyes while Yuri speaks, and it takes him a long moment before he shakes his head. "Nothing." He raises both hands to cup Yuri's face. "Yura, I don't want anything but you."

Then his eyelids flutter, and he gasps Yuri's name while his hips judder. Yuri feels the hot splash of come on his hand, against his own dick, and he's wrenched back into awareness of his own body, awareness of how much of the urge to give Otabek more is his own body straining toward release. Yet he fights it off. He doesn't want to miss a second of Otabek's pleasure, of the way Otabek shakes and shudders, and pulses in his hand; of the wanton, helpless sounds Otabek makes in the hair's breadth of space between their mouths. Of Otabek's heat, which has increased and which threatens to send Yuri over the edge if he dwells on it, so he needs to--

Otabek drops a hand to encompass Yuri's around them both. His thumb brushes through his own come, smearing it across Yuri's tip, and when he squeezes, it's like he's touched a nerve ending running through Yuri's entire body. Yuri's thoughts white out. There's nothing but the sensation of Otabek's touch, sparking his orgasm and burning him up, turning his willpower to ash. He can still feel Otabek coming against him, on him; he just can't concentrate on it because Otabek's hand is _right there_ , turning him inside out in the best way.

Eventually, he can focus enough again to note the change in Otabek's breathing, and he eases his own grip on their spent dicks. A moment later, Otabek follows suit, though he doesn't let go. They've leaned toward each other with their foreheads pressed together, so they're both staring straight down. Yuri can't help but ask, "What happened to moving to my beat?"

Otabek angles his head to reach Yuri's lips with his own. Then, he raises his free hand to the back of Yuri's head, and holds Yuri still for a longer, deeper kiss, followed by another. Yuri's nearly forgotten his question by the time Otabek pulls back enough to say, "Consider it a collaboration."

Yuri considers giving Otabek shit for being as sappy as Victor--on top of disrupting Yuri's hand job--but the truth is, he's feeling too loose and lazy to do anything but lean in for more kisses. In a minute, he'll get up and clean himself off, get dressed, and remember what he meant to do before getting sidetracked by Otabek's answer to his original question.

Otabek's tongue slides deep into his mouth, and he decides he's good right where he is. Whether he's moving Otabek, or Otabek's moving him, as long as they move together, he's here for that beat.


End file.
